She's Gonna Be A Star Ch. 04

One morning, the phone rang before I left for work. It was Ali, sounding excited.

"I got him back!"

"Who?" I asked, bleary. This was after my shower, but before my coffee. I couldn't figure out what she was talking about.

"Harvey! Remember? You said he'd try to trick me? He'd get some friends over, to see me shriek and run for the bathroom?"

"I kinda remember."

"Jeez!" she was exasperated. "You said he would try to embarrass me, in exchange for embarrassing him? When I clench my ass against him every morning? At the window?"

To tell the truth, Ali and I had so many things going that we were both forgetting crucial items. But I finally remembered. As a joke, I'd had Harvey stand behind Ali while she was doing her window thing. I'd told him to extend her "actor's exercise" by inviting friends or a pizza delivery over to surprise her. Also as part of the joke, I'd had her stretch voluptuously in his grip. I'd queued her to clench and unclench her ass against his lap. Then I'd warned Ali that he might try to get her back, by inviting people over, people who would see Ali. She all but challenged him to try to embarrass her.

I'd set all this in motion, and forgotten. "Tell me all about it."

"Well, you know I've been ass-clenching him every morning. To get him back for... to embarrass him for... well. I've been ass-clenching him for some reason, I forget what."

I felt a tender smile spread across my lips. She really was a doll.

"So every morning, I wake up and he's there. Then eventually I get to the window. And he's got me from behind, hands around my waist, looking over my shoulder, and we're counting everybody who's looking up at me. I have a bunch of regulars now. By the way, I think the window thing is working -- I can feel my stage fright slowly disappearing."

"Good, good," I said drily.

"Anyways, as usual, yesterday morning, I'm stretching and ass-clenching my ass in his lap. He's in his boxers -- that's usual now, too, we're both getting pretty comfortable sharing the apartment -- and I can feel his dong through the cotton. I'm giggling to myself, 'cause he's getting a stiffie on my ass, and I'm clenching him like crazy. Are you with me so far?"

I was more than with her. I had my cock out and in my hand.

"I'm thinking, 'So he thinks he can embarrass me?' Even though he hasn't tried to yet. I don't know what I was thinking, maybe nothing. And I'm just embarrassing him an embarrassing him, and he's just standing there behind me taking it, breathing down my neck. And I know. I know that he's going to try to get me back that night."

"How embarrassed was he?" I asked. "Did he cum?"

"He did!" she burst out laughing. "His cock was through the fly of his boxers at the end, and he came all over my ass-cheeks! He was all, 'Shit! Sorry! Shit!' And if you know Harvey, he doesn't swear. I was all, 'That's okay, Harvey. It happens to everybody.' But inside I was dying!"

"You sure got him," I said, breathing raggedly.

"He didn't know what hit him! So the rest of the morning, until he left, I was walking around with his cum on my ass. And he was staring, but he was too embarrassed to point it out."

"He doesn't know who he's messing with," I said. "Are you going to forgive him? Or are you going to keep getting him back?"

"I'm not stopping now," she sang. "I'm an empowered woman. He can just curl up and die if he thinks I'll stop ass-clenching him now. That'll show him."

"Maybe," I said, and my voice cracked. "Ahem. Maybe next time, you can, erm, get his dong between your legs. So you can really clench it with your thighs. That would show him."

Man, I'm so transparent. I thought I'd overdone it, but she didn't notice.

"Yeah! Good idea! Let's see him try to get away then!" She laughed.

"Anyway, on with your story." I was quite hard and worked up, and I wanted to hear more. What a great girlfriend she was, to call me randomly like this to relate a fucking fantasy come true.

"Sorry. So -- last night, we were hanging out. Since I've thrown out all my panties, I'm mostly just naked from 9pm to 9am, like we agreed. Harvey was reading on the couch, all dressed up, and I was lying on the couch next to him flipping through the TV. And the doorbell rings suddenly.

"Harvey gets this shifty expression on his face. He glances at me, sidelong, and asks, 'Are you expecting someone?' I shake my head, no. So he lifts my legs off his lap and goes to the door. Two old guys walk in -- his friends!

"I'm like laughing to myself. I'd so called it right. Here he was, trying to get me back. No way in hell was I going to let that happen. He said, 'Oh! I forgot I invited Sam and Alfonse over. They're friends from work!'

"They come over, staring at me, waiting for me to go 'Eek! Men!' and run to the bathroom. I just stood up and shook their hands. To fuck with them, I called them 'Mr. Galbraith' and 'Mr. Nadi' all night. Harvey was 'Harv.'

"Harvey got them beers and they all sat down. His friends were on the couch on either side of me. And Harvey was on the lounge chair. We were all just talking along, but I was trying to figure out good ways to embarrass Harvey, right there! If he thought I was going to go 'Eek!', and be some kind of girl, he deserved all I could dish out."

Her voice grew a little more restrained. "Problem was, I couldn't think of much. I guess I needed your help then. I wanted, like, a cell phone. Or a spy gadget, so you could be whispering in my ear. I couldn't think of anything really, really embarrassing to do. And besides, they were keeping me busy answering questions."

"What were they asking?" I breathed. I could just imagine the scene in Harvey's apartment last night. If Ali had a mission, her mind engaged, there was no way she had any body shame. I could just imagine her sitting between Mr. Galbraith and Mr. Nadi, naively chatting away.

"First they asked about the band, and if I had any publicity photos yet. I told them you were working on that. Then they said it must be hard to stay in shape. What was my workout plan? I told them about the stomach crunches, the squats, the push-ups, all that shit I do every day. They couldn't believe I did sixty crunches a day. They were feeling my muscles, and I noticed finally that Harvey was looking uncomfortable.

"So I was all, 'And feel this one! Strong, eh? And this one! And this one!'" She broke off in laughter. "You should've seen Harvey's face, as they felt all my muscles!"

"Very clever," I said. "What muscles did you show them?"

"Oh, thigh, calf, arms. Um, stomach, back, ass. They even noticed my chest was ripped -- I didn't know that! I have muscles at the top of my tits; if I box my arms and tense my shoulders, you can actually see the muscles move. They said those were strong, too, from the push-ups."

"They felt your chest?"

"Yeah, my breast muscles. And then, of course, I had to demonstrate my stretches. Eventually the conversation got off me and my 'magnificent female specimen', as they put it. I just sort of curled up between them and let my eyes close. They were talking way over my head. I didn't understand a thing! It was all 'Caligula' this and 'polyamory' that.

"I might have fallen asleep, except that Mr. Galbraith, he put his hand on my thigh. At first I thought he was feeling my muscle again, but he left his hand there. Then I thought he wanted me to get up, or move -- I was leaned up against Mr. Nadi, with my legs curled against Mr. Galbraith. I thought he might be uncomfortable.

"They were still talking, his hand still moving. And then I realized -- Harvey's friend was copping a feel! Can you believe it?"

"I can," I said. "But I know how attractive you are."

"I finally perked up and listened to what they were saying. They were back on me again, how pretty I looked sleeping, and shit. My nipples all hard, and stuff like that. How simple I seemed. I was about to tell them I wasn't asleep, but then Harvey said, 'I'm really uncomfortable with your hand on her.'" She paused. "That's like saying you're embarassed, right?"

"Right."

"That's what I thought. So if Harvey was embarrassed, there's no way I'm going to pretend to wake up. I sort of nestle in to Mr. Nadi, and open my legs a little. Sure enough -- I really am smart sometimes -- before long, his fingers were tracing around my thigh. Before long, Mr. Galbraith had his fingers curling and uncurling against my snatch, and Mr. Nadi had a hand cupping my tit.

"So my eyes are closed like I'm sleeping. And I'm laughing inside, listening to how whiney and breathy Harvey's voice is, as he's trying to hold up his part of the conversation. The poor guy's friends, copping a feel off me right in front of him! I was, like, shivering from trying not to laugh. And they thought I was cumming -- like I'd cum from two old guys clawing all over my body! -- and they dug into me some more.

"Then Harvey told them, 'What I'm feeling now is not discomfort. I'm fucking jealous.' And I knew he wasn't embarrassed anymore. So I stretched, and pretended to wake up. They shifted all their hands a little and pretended to be all innocent.

"But I was still digging the idea of poor Harvey having to see his friends all over me. So we were all over each other until they left. Harvey's eyes were huge as I went into the hall with them. Mr. Nadi traced his fingers down my neck, and was fiddling with my nipple when I kissed him good-bye. Mr. Galbraith had his hand dug into my ass when I kissed him. They said they enjoyed their visit, and I said for them to come anytime. Harvey was groaning with embarrassment."

I gave a tight laugh. This had me more worked up than I could describe. "You are truly the revenge queen! I almost feel sorry for Harvey!"

She drank the compliments in. "Thanks! But I saved the best for last. I was on a roll! Back in the apartment, I was going to fall asleep on the couch. Harvey usually stays up later than me. Since I had him trapped under my legs anyway, I knew he couldn't get away.

"I told him that, for some reason, I was sort of turned on. He was blushing a dark red. Sweating. Like he was having a heart attack. But I wasn't going to let him off so easy. I said, 'Gosh! Ooh! I have to give myself some relief!' He was choking, but I didn't move my legs to let him go. I think he was so embarrassed he didn't even think of that -- he wasn't getting up, anyway.

"I said, 'I'm sorry about this. You don't have to watch, if it makes you uncomfortable.' He was all, 'Please don't stop on my account.' So I jilled off, right there. I was studying his face, drinking in his expression. He was gulping air, not dragging his eyes away. I had a big stupid smile on my face -- I was owning him. I had my ass pressed up against his thigh, with my hands working my lips. I was doing it all. I was rocking back and forth, I couldn't help making little noises."

I knew her noises. "Mnn-mnn-mnn," when she was turned on. She usually wasn't aware she was making them. When we were in public, people thought she was humming to herself.

"Was he embarrassed by all that?" I asked. This was too good to be real.

"I don't know. He was all red, and breathing hard. I have the feeling he was. He put his hand on my knee. Does that count?"

"You should probably try it again."

"Until I get it right?" she asked. "I figure it's like acting. Like pretending to give a blow-job to the microphone."

"That's exactly how it is," I said.

* * * * *

One morning I called in late for work, and went over to Ali's neighborhood.

I stayed up the street, away from her window, until I saw it open. From a block away, I still knew what I was seeing. There was Ali's torso, from her thighs to her neck, in the window. Her face was obscured by shadow. I watched as she casually lifted a mug of coffee and then set it down again.

The view was everything I'd thought it would be. Strange -- in the city morning, here was the unusual and arresting vision of a naked female body in a window. Sneaky -- I was watching, and she didn't seem to be aware of my attention; she was just looking out the window, after all, idly studying the street. Sexy -- she was stacked.

I finally stepped closer, realizing she probably wouldn't even notice me among her "regulars." There were about five of us ranged on the stoop opposite her building. Others would pause for a few minutes on their commute, looking up, sharing a few words with the others.

"How's the girl today?"

"She's just fine. She has a few hickies, you can see them."

"I can."

And, "Her old man make his appearance yet?"

"She has a husband?" I asked innocently.

"No," grinned one of the guys. He was in a business suit. "She has an actual old man. There he is!"

We turned back. I saw Harvey's large hands sliding around her stomach and pulling her back against him.

"Wow. Too weird," I said.

"Just watch."

Ali relaxed backwards against Harvey, throwing her head back. We saw her neck and her upturned chin. Harvey's grizzle mug, with a 5 o'clock shadow, appeared on her shoulder. He was nuzzling her, rubbing his cheek against her neck.

His hands described coarse circles over her tummy. From her hip-bone across, under her belly button, up her waist, over her rib-cage. His movement jostled her breasts.

Then, as I watched, she seemed to arch up on her tippy-toes. Her thighs parted for a second, a glimpse of shiny, moist pink. I was watching Ali's new "ass-clench" technology. The cock between the legs thing, that she was so excited to try. Her thighs came back together, and I watched as the muscles on her legs pulsed. She was giving long, slow squeezes.

"Milk it, baby," said one of the guys. He was staring up unabashedly, his eyes wet.

"Is he fucking her?" I asked.

"Not always," he said. "Sometimes he ends up inside her. But he usually shoots off all over her thighs and pussy. Then he's gone in a flash. She usually hangs out for another five minutes or so. Weirdest thing is, last week she was talking on the phone while it was going on."

I gave a little smile.

As Ali's leg muscles flexed, the speed increased. Harvey's hands roamed all over her, not just her waist. One palm was rubbing urgently back and forth across the hard knots of her nipples, her breasts squashing back and forth. His other hand was pressed low on her stomach, his bottommost fingers curling and uncurling in the lips of her snatch.

Ali leaned forward, her forehead on the bottom edge of the raised window. We saw her face, her eyes slitted, her mouth an O. Her hands were planted on the window sill and she was leaning forward, grinding her ass into Harvey's lap. Her tits swung in rhythm below her. She was deep in concentration, working her to get him off, to ostensibly "embarrass" him.

Though it was a second-story window, our view from the street was complete. I saw as Harvey ejaculated. His cum spurted from the V at the top of her legs. He must have been riding high, high up her thighs, in that little spot she had that was crowded with skin, warmth, and moisture. His cock must've been sliding in the moist cleft of her pussy. The folds over her sex were shiny with cum, little streaks of it slid down her legs.

"There he goes," said one of the watchers, as Harvey disappeared from behind her.

After a moment, Ali straightened. She picked up her coffee mug again. The sexiest thing was the little smile on her lips. The second sexiest thing was the slick white moisture hanging from her nether lips.

Ali would describe today's window escapade to me -- she always did. As I had expected, she was leaving out all the best details. I was getting the Ali version, filtered through her preconceptions and off-target notions of what was going on. (Her account of that morning went like, "There were six guys on the street watching, as I totally humiliated Harvey. It's like he can't help himself.")

I gave a sigh.

"Show's not over," grunted one of the men. "She comes down and goes to work in the diner up the street. Her name is 'Perky.'"

I was ambivalent. These guys' knowledge of Ali, and her routine, smacked of stalking. It also showed how hot she was. A true dream. One of those rare New York women that men will change their schedules just to ogle.

She finally stepped out of the building. She had her backpack on her back, her hair pulled up in a little pony tail. She looked like a college student going to class. But she was also wearing loose little cut-off jeans shorts, the back pockets missing. Her ass cheeks hung down below them, but they featured long horizontal rips over her ass so that the delectable flesh of her butt came into view with each step. She also had the fly unbuttoned and the waistline rolled down her hips -- one of Harvey's innovations.

Her top was one of my favorites. A demure, thin pink muscle shirt that was cut to just above her belly button. What made it my favorite was the quarter-sized, thready hole on the side of one of her tits. The hole -- and the skin it disclosed -- was mesmerizing; it showed the girl just on the other side of the 4 milimeter thick fabric. When she walked, her whole chest jounced from side to side.

Her path took her right past us. I could've sworn she would see me. But as she passed, her only response to their whistles and calls was a smile and a wave. She didn't even look over at us. If she had, she surely would've seen me.

"I think I feel hungry," I said to the guys with me.

"She won't fuck you," one of them answered. "We've asked."

"All the same."

In the cafe, I passed as she was putting a plate in front of one of her regulars.

"You're looking mighty fine today," he was saying. As she was leaning over, his eyes were down her front.

"Thanks, Hal," she said. "You're looking good today too."

"You sure you won't fuck me?" He asked, his voice low. I paused, intrigued. "I know you like me. You don't even complain when I grab your ass."

"I hardly think about it anymore," she said.

I watched as his hand snuck around the table and he palmed the back of her thigh. His hand slid up and cupped the curve of her butt. Her shorts were short, but also loose. Only his thumb rested against the fabric.

"Besides, just because a guy grabs your ass, it doesn't mean he wants to fuck you," she said knowledgeably. She straightened, and moved away, leaving his hand grabbing air. "I mean, everybody does it. Everybody can't want a piece of me."

Hal laughed ruefully, and then noticed me watching. "Oh, to be young and stupid again."

I smiled down at him. "I'm her boyfriend."

He shrugged. He wasn't afraid -- though older, he was easily twice my size. In a fight, there wouldn't be much of a contest. "Didn't mean anything by it. She's just a waitress."

"Oh, I don't care," I told him. "A man would have to be crazy not to cop a feel off that ass."

He smiled in surprise. "She's a keeper, that's for sure."

"...Or her tits," I added casually.

I let him stew on that as I found an empty table.

I felt Ali before I saw her. When she came to my table, she brushed against my shoulder, a hot, soft presence. Then she leaned over from the hips, her legs straight and her ass projecting into the aisle. Her elbows on the table with her pad in front of her, I had a commanding view down her front.

"Sooo..." she said. "What'll it be for ya, honey?"

She had the waitress thing down. Everything was calculated to get me turned on -- from the first body contact to the space-invading nearness of her flawless skin. And it didn't even look like she was trying. She was just naturally sexy, naturally available. A natural wet dream. I felt like she was an old friend. And she looked so delicious, spread out so familiarly, her back arched, that I couldn't help myself.